


Butterfly

by koto



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Drabble, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Lee Minho | Lee Know is Whipped, M/M, Pining, butterfly kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:41:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29459163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koto/pseuds/koto
Summary: “Minho, have you heard of butterfly kisses?”
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 33
Kudos: 190
Collections: Drabbles Challenge for Chaotic Writers





	Butterfly

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> I am back! Much in thanks to this drabble challenge for forcing me to finish something for the first time this year.  
> It's short and sweet and warm and I hope that makes up for the month and a half it's been since I posted lol, I swear I have other things in progress but for now: please enjoy Minho being whipped and Jisung also being whipped but much less quiet about it.
> 
> Happy International Fanworks Day!

Sunlight shines warm against Minho’s face as he shuts his eyes and tilts his head, leaned back against the bus stop bench he’s seated on and enjoying a late spring breeze as it breathes life back into his body. It’s early, too early to do anything but exist as he and Jisung wait for their bus after an overnight shift that left them both drained and stupid. He’s not even sure what Jisung is doing right now, but the faint warmth on his left side and the muffled audio coming from his earbuds makes Minho think there’s probably a podcast or Youtube documentary of some sort playing on his coworker’s phone while they wait for the first bus of the day. And that’s fine, because they talked and chatted all night, and in the several months of knowing and working alongside Jisung, Minho has learned that he values having a comfortable silence with the boy almost as much as he values their effortless conversation and banter.

He’s exhausted, almost more than he ever has been. It had been a busy night for them both, and Minho really needs some rest. He almost wants to lean his head onto Jisung’s shoulder, find out if the warmth of the sun or the warmth of Jisung feels better against his cheek, or if maybe they’re one and the same. But perhaps that would cross a line. A blurry line, to be fair, one that gets blurrier each time he sits a little closer to Jisung than needed, each time Jisung hovers right over his shoulder when he asks him to look at his monitor at his work computer and lets his breath fan over Minho’s neck, blurrier still when they agree to get off at the same stop and both pass out on Minho’s couch so Jisung doesn’t have to ride until the end of the line, waking up with crossed limbs and goofy grins of embarrassment on their faces. Minho flinches a little when he feels something land on his face, a leaf maybe, and twitches his nose to get it off. It stays, but he’s honestly too tired and absorbed in his thoughts to care. Should he do it? It’s not that big of a deal, and he’s tired, and even after a long shift at work he knows Jisung will smell good thanks to the amber fragrance oil he has a habit of rubbing behind his ears every few hours. It makes Minho want to shove his face in Jisung’s neck and never leave, but that would certainly be too much to play off. No, for now, he just wants a shoulder to rest his head on and the freedom to keep his eyes shut while they wait.

“Don’t move,” Minho hears, no more than a whisper coming from Jisung’s lips. Had he been caught? Was he leaning into Jisung without noticing?

Minho opens his eyes warily, blinking when he sees something much larger than expected resting on his nose. “Jisung, what the hell is that?”

“Don’t move,” Jisung repeats, slightly louder this time. Minho shifts his eyes to look at Jisung from his peripheral, surprised when he’s met with a view of the back of his phone instead. He hears the faint shutter of the camera app, still muffled by headphones, but gets no real response.

“What is it?”

“There’s a butterfly on your nose, oh my god Minho, I can’t believe it,” Jisung finally answers. The grin he’s wearing can be heard in his voice, thick and silly as he stands up slowly to take pictures from all different angles. “You’re like a fairy or something, it’s like magic. Or a Disney princess maybe? Can you talk to animals?”

“Yeah, I can talk to squirrels,” Minho says, moving his hand slowly, only from the wrist down, to point at Jisung. He pouts, which only makes his cheeks puff out more than they do in his natural state and add to the resemblance Jisung shares with the creature. As slowly as Minho moves his hand and as careful as he tries to be, it’s apparently still too much; he feels the flutter of wings on his nose before he sees it.

“No!” Jisung shrieks, reaching out to try to grab the butterfly before it takes off from Minho’s face.

The butterfly is faster.

It disappears into the wind, leaving Jisung to stumble half force at Minho and narrowly avoid smashing his fist into the other’s face, instead leaning to the right and catching himself on the back of the bench as their foreheads nearly crash together. Minho looks up to see Jisung hovering over him, cheeks red and eyes wide as he braces himself with one knee on the bench and both arms caging Minho in.

Minho was right, even after a shift from hell he does still smell good. He looks good too, though there are bags forming under his eyes and his lips are a little chapped. He’s still about the cutest boy Minho has ever laid eyes upon.

“Uh, sorry,” Jisung says, scrambling off him and pushing away from the bench. Minho almost pulls him back in, nearly grabs Jisung’s wrists to keep him close and maybe see if the line between friends and more can be erased, but then the telltale exhale of the city bus sounds off and the opportunity is gone as Jisung pulls him off the bench and onto their way home.

The bus is nearly empty this early in the morning, and as they make their way to a duo of seats Minho finds himself glaring a hole into the back of Jisung’s neck. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, or the proximity, or the sweet smell of the spring breeze mixed with amber and skin, but his will to keep this act up and pretend he doesn’t want more is fading.

“I’m tired,” Jisung sighs once they sit, taking his headphones off and putting them away. He tries and fails to stifle a yawn, and Minho can’t help but laugh at the involuntary noise he lets out.

“You wanna crash at my place?”

“Please.”

Minho hums in affirmation, getting himself settled for the fifteen minute ride. Just as he’s about to shut his eyes again, Jisung taps him on the shoulder and holds out his phone. “Pictures,” he says, opening up his photo gallery.

“Of?”

“Of you and your friend,” Jisung replies with a grin. The first one comes up, a side shot of Minho with his eyes closed and a common white butterfly perched upon his nose. It’s blurry, but as Jisung swipes the next two become a little clearer. Minho leans in closer to look, still a little surprised that actually happened. He’s always been a cat person, never so much a bug guy. Insect? “Cute,” he says when Jisung gets to one where the butterfly's wings are all spread out.

“Adorable. Both of you,” Jisung agrees, favoriting the photo before swiping to the next one. Minho’s arm is straining to keep himself up and still be able to see, which Jisung seems to notice, and he shifts to sit back in his seat before patting his shoulder welcomingly.

“What’s that for?”

“It’ll be easier to see. Come here.”

Minho looks into Jisung’s eyes, down to his shoulder, down to his phone. Can his coworker read minds or something, or has he really been that obvious? He’s not in the state to ask, instead just shuffles closer into Jisung and lays his head down on his shoulder, enjoying the soft fleece of his hoodie and the warmth that takes over his side.

“Look at this one, Min,” Jisung says softly, zooming in on another photo.

“It’s cool,” Minho agrees.

“It looks like it could be in a museum. How are your eyelashes that long?”

“Good genes.”

“I’ll say.”

Jisung prattles on some more, spouting out wild comparisons and compliments that make Minho red at the ears. Then the topic shifts to food, about how he’s going to eat everything in Minho’s fridge except for one thing or the other. It’s not that Jisung isn’t interesting, but the topic is meaningless and Jisung’s voice is soothing and at some point, Minho must start dozing off, because the next thing he knows he’s being shaken awake and led off the bus towards his apartment.

“Minho, have you heard of butterfly kisses?” Jisung asks curiously, strolling down the hall to Minho’s unit.

“Butterfly kisses?”

“Yeah, I was just thinking about it cuz of… well, obviously. The butterfly.”

“I have no idea what that is,” Minho says, pulling out his keys to unlock his door. Jisung strolls in as soon as the door opens, making himself at home as he takes off his shoes and waits for Minho to filter in behind him.

“Aw, my mom used to do them to me when I was little. Can I have a bagel?” Jisung asks, already standing in the kitchen and opening the bag.

“Yeah, give me one too. So what is it?”

“Toasted?”

“Toasted.”

Jisung pops their bagels into the toaster and leans against the counter, looking at the ceiling thoughtfully. “It’s like… how do I explain it? Eyelash kisses? You kind of just get really close to the person and both just flutter your eyelashes and then you’re butterfly kissing.”

“That sounds painful.”

“It’s not,” Jisung laughs. “It’s not, I promise. Come here.

“Why?” Minho asks, though he’s already walking over.

“I’ll show you, it doesn’t hurt. It’s soft.”

“Why is that called a butterfly kiss? Butterflies don’t have eyelashes,” Minho says. He’s arguing for the sake of arguing, or maybe for the sake of buying time, or maybe just because he truly is too exhausted to function.

“Because the lashes are like the wings,” Jisung explains. He pulls him in closer with a hand on either shoulder, and Minho is reminded of earlier at the bus stop. He doesn’t want to get lost in fantasies or caught dreaming while still awake, but this isn’t the first time Jisung has breached his personal space today, and this is far from accidental.

“What are you gonna do?” Minho asks, unable to stop a coy smile from forming on his face as Jisung’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Nothing, you pervert. Just lean down a little,” Jisung says with a smile, tone softer than it should be for the language being used. “Your eyelashes really are long.”

“Thanks.”

Jisung leans up and in, breath shaking a bit as he inches closer and closer, forehead meeting Minho’s softly. It’s almost unbearable to be this connected and unable to act, and as much as Minho wants to curse Jisung for suggesting this situation and himself for following along, he tries to shove down the frustration and enjoy. His hands float awkwardly by his sides, unsure where to be until he finally decides to settle them on Jisung’s hips and hope it’s not too much of a risk. From the breathy laugh his friend lets out, it seems to be ok, and Minho finally lets himself look into Jisung’s incredibly close gaze only to recognize the slight glint of nervousness it holds.

“This is so weird,” Minho laughs, trying to cut the awkwardness.

“It’s sweet,” Jisung protests, leaning in just a bit closer to get their eyelashes finally touching. “Like this,” he says, fluttering his eyelashes.

“It tickles.”

“You do it.”

Minho follows direction, fluttering his eyelashes with Jisung so they tangle and tickle and intertwine. It is kind of sweet, and he can’t help but smile and let out a little chuckle when Jisung blinks in a larger than life motion.

“It’s nice, right?

“Mhmm,” Minho hums in agreement. Jisung’s eyes are still closed, and from this angle Minho can just barely see the top of Jisung’s soft cheeks and the pink pout of his bottom lip. It feels like every time they get closer, the line keeping them apart shrinks and gets weaker. Now, with their foreheads touching and their lashes intertwined, Minho thinks they might have finally crossed it and made the barrier dissolve into nothing. “It’s sweet. It’s kind of dumb, though.”

“It’s not dumb. You should feel lucky I’m showing you, I’m very cute.”

“You are very cute,” Minho agrees, glancing down to Jisung’s lips. Yeah, he’s just about had it. “And it’s a very cute type of kiss. But Jisung, there’s about a million more ways I’d rather kiss you than this. You know that, right?”

He feels Jisung inhale sharply, feels his eyebrows shoot up against Minho’s forehead and can almost imagine the way he sucks his lower lip into his mouth and bite down the way he always does when he’s taken off guard. He’s almost scared Jisung will pull away, and he tightens the hold he has on the boy's hips ever so slightly just in case. But instead Jisung merely shifts his angle, pulling away from Minho so that he can look more easily into his eyes and settling into a position where their noses brush and their lips nearly touch.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Oh,” Jisung whispers, eyes crinkling up as he smiles. “Ok, well. Then do that.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

So he does.

It takes less than a millisecond for Minho to erase the distance between them, erase the line keeping them apart, and seal their lips. And suddenly, with the feeling of chapped lips against his, the smell of amber and toasted bagels in the air, and the warmth of their bodies pressed together, Minho learns the joys of a new kind of kiss. One that’s been building up for months, so sweet and simple, yet powerful enough to knock down the barrier between friend and lover and open up a whole new future.

They spend their time before passing out exploring all sorts of kisses they know. Kisses on the cheek, the neck, the shoulder. Eskimo kisses where their noses rub together, behind-the-ear kisses where Jisung whispers compliments and secrets to Minho between pecks, top-of-the-head kisses as Jisung nods off while leaned into Minho on the sofa with a show on in the background.

And at some point there will be dirtier kisses, with tongue and passion and uncontained lust, but it had taken months of work to get to brushes of the eyelashes and mere moments to get the sweet press of Jisung’s lips to his own, and he’ll wait as long or as short as he needs to for more. Jisung’s kisses are warm like the springtime sun, and Minho will soak up what he can.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on  
> writing twt: @Ao3Koto  
> stan/personal twt: @0hrhj0  
> cc: koto16


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